


Loss of Rights

by Huntera



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Trust, Love/Hate, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntera/pseuds/Huntera
Summary: Gavin ends up losing his job to Connor, setting off a downward spiral in Connor's life. In an attempt to stop this from happening, Connor tries to reach out to anybody he can. Unfortunately, they all have ulterior motives.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed, Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 48
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I based this off of characters in the video game but have only played through one ending, so I don't know all the possibilities (and therefore may not be as accurate in characterization). 
> 
> There is no smut in this first chapter, but will be in later chapters. There will be graphic depictions of rape/non-consensual sex, abuse, internalized homophobia, and similar topics. Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> Thank you for your patience.

Gavin was in an unusually good mood when he stepped into the station that morning. Maybe because he got a decent sleep for once and his back wasn’t driving him up the wall. He even had a spring in his step as soon as he walked into the open area where the desks were, and then he paused. 

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. It took two seconds to see what went astray. Firstly, Hank was smiling. Never a good sign. Secondly, that robot bitch they hired a while back, back when the world was in Gavin’s favour (and not in favour of giving machines any rights), was sitting at his desk. Looking like he _belonged there_. 

“The hell is going on here?” he said, walking over. “Get the fuck out of my chair.”

“Good morning, Detective Reed,” Connor chirped, looking at him innocently, as if he wasn’t just invading the detective’s personal space. Ever since the revolution and androids being given all the bells and whistles humans were entitled to, he’d switched out of that ridiculous CyberLife suit and now wore clothes that any other detective in the department would’ve worn. It pissed Gavin off, since it made it clear Connor was here to stay.

He narrowed his eyes at the android. For all the programming, artificial intelligence, and technology they’d put into the thing, they made one fatal flaw. They didn’t give it a single idea on how to take a fucking hint. 

Something seemed out of place though, and Gavin realized this as soon as he caught sight of the name card on the desk.

_Detective Connor._

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Gavin spat, unable to comprehend why the hell Connor had his own name card, it was hard to even comprehend why he was sitting here. If they’d been switching desks around, it would’ve never gotten any approval without passing through him first. Or at least, Gavin would’ve made sure they had his approval before pulling any tricks like this. 

“It’s not a joke,” Hank spoke up. 

“Shut up, wino.”

In the meantime, the tin can seemed unconcerned by what was unfolding in front of him. As if the two were simply discussing the weather and not why he was sitting at Gavin’s desk… or where his desk once was. There was a sound of a door slamming open.

“Reed! My office, now.”

Gavin gritted his teeth as he heard Captain Fowler shouting at him from the door of his office.

“Alright. I’m coming,” he muttered. 

* * *

Two minutes later he was sitting in Fowler’s office with his latest performance report pulled up on the console for the two of them to see. He was doing his best to ignore all the words in red here and there. And he definitely couldn’t read the words “not satisfactory” or “needs improvement” in certain places. Nope, as of right now, he was illiterate. He didn’t know how to read. That was it. 

Fowler gave Reed a look.

“You do know why you’re here, right?”

“Hmmm… you wanted to tell me why you gave that piece of plastic my desk.” 

“We need to talk about your performance as of late.”

Gavin let out a groan. “Okay, let’s hear it. Shoot.”

“The past few investigations you’ve been on, things have gone wrong. Interviews botched, evidence gone missing-”

“Hold on- evidence gone missing?”

“We’ve started to notice a pattern. Whenever there’s red ice involved in a case you’re on, it always goes missing. Is there something that you’d like to share with me?”

Gavin’s face went red. It was humiliating, to have his boss insinuate that he was stealing drugs and using them on the job. Because while Gavin might've been a shitty person, he was never shitty enough to get into red ice. 

“Are you saying I’m stealing it? Is that what you're saying?”

The captain sighed, not wanting to get into a screaming match. “Forget about the red ice. The issue is that you’ve been insulting Connor.”

“Insulting him... that's bullshit.”

“The Charter of Rights for Androids was rolled out six months ago. No discrimination, intimidation, bullying, none of that. Especially not here.” 

“How--”

“Listen,” Fowler cut him off, “I don't want to argue. We can’t have this here anymore. We’ve got external auditors coming in and sometimes, they hear what you say to him. I know you don’t like him. But it’s gonna land us all in trouble. You hear me?”

Gavin shook his head in disbelief. “I haven’t said jack shit to the-- to him, okay? There’s no big deal about it.”

“I’ve been getting reports about how you’ve been calling him a “tin-can”, “plastic prick”, and some other shit that’s gonna end up hurting us if it ends up on the news. Sorry, but I’m putting you on leave until we can figure out where to reassign you. I can’t have you here anymore.”

“But--”

“That’s enough.”

Anger was no stranger to Gavin. And a part of him really did want to make a big deal of it right here and now. But the mention of external auditors irked him. Were there just random robots hanging around, watching him? Little mini drones with cameras eyeing their every move? Ever since the androids got their rights, Gavin felt like he lost his.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake. You can defend that machine all you want, or you can think about caring about one of your best detectives who's been here for over a decade.”

Fowler threw up his hands in defeat. “For an android, he’s been helping us on plenty of cases. I’ve given him a permanent position to take over your place. We can find you somewhere less stressful. Maybe the traffic department has a desk for you.” 

“ _Him_? He doesn’t even have a last name. The hell is your problem?”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Sure, Gavin bitched about androids taking his job and expected it coming one day. Except they just didn’t take it. They kicked him out of it, and gave it to one. 

“Fuck this,” he cursed, getting up. “I’m out.” 

* * *

Fowler said something else but Gavin couldn’t hear it. All he could hear was the pounding in his head from the amount of anger he was feeling, as he slammed the office door behind him, and looked back up to see Connor still sitting at his desk. His old desk. The android looked up when he saw Gavin emerge from the captain’s office and seemed totally unphased. Innocuous. As if he had no role in getting Gavin fired. 

“Detective Reed-” Connor began, when Gavin marched on over.

“Not detective anymore, thanks to you!” he shouted, grabbing Connor by the collar of his shirt and slamming him on the wall behind them. Connor’s eyes widened and if he hadn’t been a goddamn machine, he probably would’ve had the wind knocked out of him. His LED momentarily blinked red.

“What are you talking about?” 

Connor's confusion only pissed him off even more. He would've rather Connor rubbed it in his face because at least he would've known the android was being all smug. When Connor was being like this, Gavin really couldn't tell if he was innocent or not. If he knew about it or not. Hell, maybe he was the one who ratted him out. It drove Gavin insane. 

“Lost my job because of you, you stupid fucking piece of shit!” 

Gavin’s fist collided with the side of Connor’s face, sending the android falling onto the floor and a trickle of blue flowing out of his nose. Hank walked over, ready to intervene. The rest of the staff at the station watched but made no move to say anything.

Connor scrambled to sit up, trying to speak to Gavin. “Detective Reed, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding-”

“No misunderstanding. He’s been fired. Get out of here before I have to make you leave.” Hank said, eyeing Gavin with plenty of disgust. The tables had turned. Once upon a time, Gavin had given Hank that look along with disparaging comments about his abuse of alcoholic beverages. Now, he was the one being treated like he had a problem. And he hated it. 

There was no use wasting any more time on the issue. While Gavin got away with a lot, the last thing he wanted was footage on the CCTV of him losing his shit. He did not want to become the laughingstock of the station. He pulled away from Connor and stood properly. 

“This isn’t over. You’re going to pay,” he said, and turned, leaving the station in a huff. Connor touched his nose, eyed the blue on his fingertips before slowly getting up. He stared after the door with a worried look on his face. His LED spun yellow as he struggled to find the best way to resolve the situation. 

“Maybe I should go after him,” he said, “I think this is a misunderstanding.”

Hank let out a snort. “Forget it. Don’t be an ass-kisser. The prick had it coming for him.” He put a supportive hand onto Connor’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Connor wiped his nose off with a tissue, and sat back down in front of his console, but Hank made no move to walk away from his desk. This was bothersome, because Connor’s mind was preoccupied with possible options on how to repair his relationship with Gavin. Even if the human had been hostile towards him from the beginning, his system calculated that maintaining a positive relationship with everyone would be far more beneficial than otherwise. 

Connor feigned preoccupation with work, turning on the computer console, while he watched Hank from the corner of his eye. 

Not only did he have to worry about his relationship with Gavin, but he was starting to worry about his relationship with the Lieutenant. Every so often, the man took sips from a opaque blue water bottle labelled _DPD._ He used the washroom more frequently, seemed pretty informal at times (even more than he already was), and Connor could always detect the presence of alcohol in the air whenever they were around each other. He could also detect the levels of intoxication in the man’s system, too. Right now they were rather high.

It seemed as if his alcoholism was getting worse and Connor just couldn’t understand why. The stress around deviant android cases had died down over a year ago. Yet the drinking hadn’t stopped and only seemed to worsen. His performance on cases were poor. He spent more time cursing and making comments on Connor’s observations than doing any investigating himself. He was only saved by Connor’s ability to find evidence and progress a case, making enough work to cover both of their tracks. Sometimes he simply sent Connor onto a case alone and feigned illness. 

Last Sunday, Connor wanted to talk to the Lieutenant about this and managed to find him totally passed out on the couch at his house, with Sumo sleeping by his side. He still hadn't found the right time to speak with him. Hank seemed to brush off any attempt he made at bringing up his alcoholism during lunch breaks and it wasn't appropriate to talk about it on the job.

Speaking about appropriate talk, here was another concern. Hank's drunken comments weren't limited to Connor's work performance.

“You ever think about getting proper pants? They’re kinda tight.” Hank said to him once, while they were examining a scene of a homicide. Connor had been crouched and looking at the human’s lifeless body when he said this. He turned and caught sight of the man’s eyes lowered, staring right at his behind. For a moment, his LED glowed yellow.

“The pants I wear are tailored to fit me. There is no improper fit, Lieutenant.” 

Hank only grumbled in response. But with Connor’s deviancy came the strange new concept of concern with how others looked upon him. Prior to this, his mind only focused on cases, solving cases, and taking a deviant down. Never on social behavior or issues. He could’ve investigated cases naked back then and he wouldn’t have given a shit, if it meant he’d take a deviant down.

Not anymore. After that case, he changed into new clothes that helped him blend in with the rest of the department. The comments on his pants being tight weren't the kinds of comments he felt were necessary. Besides, he wasn’t working for CyberLife anymore. He was working for himself and the police department.

Hank never spoke of his pants being tight after that, but he still acted strange. Like now.

“Lucky to have you around, Connor.” Hank said, giving him another pat on the shoulder. “Maybe we could spend some time together after work.”

This sparked some interest. Maybe he wanted to confide in Connor about his alcohol issues and they could work together on fixing it. In the past, he never would've struck up an offer like this to Connor. But over the course of their time together they'd gotten along much better and he understood that the Lieutenant trusted him more. As an android, he always wanted to help humans and this was no exception.

“That would be a good idea," he agreed, "where should we go?"

Hank had an unfamiliar look in his eyes. "I have just the right idea." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains elements of homophobia, slurs, victim-blaming and non-con. No outright smut, but will be very soon.
> 
> Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> Thank you for your support.

The rest of the day went smoothly. Reviewing cases, filing reports, paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Occasional cursing from Hank on how boring all of this was. No scenes to visit today, it was all just deskwork. Which was just fine with Connor, because doing menial work like this made it easier for his system to multi-task and focus on other things. Like ways he could improve his relationship with Gavin, or at least make it clear to the human that there was some miscommunication. 

As far as he knew, he wasn’t the cause of Gavin’s job loss. He overheard Fowler claiming Gavin was doing poorly in terms of job performance. So how could that be Connor’s fault? Though he understood humans didn’t like to hear the truth, especially when the truth put the blame onto them. 

Perhaps Gavin just wanted to put the blame onto Connor instead. Humans had what they called a ‘scapegoat’, someone they blamed for their personal trouble. It lessened the emotional burden - something Connor realized was a lot to deal with. Prior to deviancy, it was easy to stay distant and maintain no emotional connection to anything. Especially since he felt little to no emotion. But now emotions were trickling in and he certainly felt burdened by emotions related to Gavin’s job loss. 

After many pre-constructions of what would be the best way to solve the problem, Connor decided that a face-to-face meeting was the answer. A phone call was impersonal to humans and offered Gavin the chance to hang up when he wanted. Text messaging was unprofessional and again, offered Gavin the option to straight up ignore him. But seeing each other face-to-face didn't give him chance to walk away so easily. Gavin also had the opportunity to hear Connor’s side of the situation. It seemed like the best way to go. 

As usual, Hank got up ten minutes before five, turned his console off, and walked on over to Connor’s desk. 

“Let’s go.”

“There’s ten more--”

“I don’t give a shit. Let's go,” Hank muttered. Connor didn’t think the negativity was necessary, but he powered off his console and stood up. A quick inspection of Hank revealed that he was yet again, far more intoxicated than what was appropriate for work. Connor made a note in his system to bring it up later this evening, at a convenient time. 

* * *

They walked out of the station and to Hank’s car. 

“Lieutenant Anderson- your blood alcohol is over the legal limit. It would be wise to allow me to drive, in order to prevent any accidents or legal trouble.”

Hank gave him a look like he was stupid, but tossed over the keys. They switched sides and Connor got in on the driver’s side, adjusting the seat and buckling in his seat-belt. Hank got in through the passenger’s side and did the same - begrudgingly, for he had been berated for not wearing his seat-belt far too many times. 

“So, you thought of a suitable location for us to visit tonight. Where are we going?”

“Jimmy’s bar.”

Connor blinked, wondering why he thought this was a good place for them to go. He didn’t like the stuffy atmosphere in the place, nor did he enjoy the presence of many with criminal records or prejudice against androids. 

“Then to my place,” Hank added, seeing Connor look confused. 

“Are you sure it’s necessary to go to Jimmy’s bar?"

“I need a drink.” Hank muttered.

Connor would’ve argued that it was a _want_ , not a _need_ , especially with his day-long drinking habit. But the last thing he needed was to ruin his relationship with his work partner. This was a difficult thing he was learning to balance. The feelings of a person, as opposed to the more logical, rational decisions available to them. To placate Hank’s feelings, he could let him have a drink. But the logical, rational decision was to stop him, because it encouraged his alcoholism. His LED turned yellow as he wrestled with these two options in his system.

“Okay. We’ll go there.” Connor finally said, after opposing the logical reasoning within his system. 

* * *

They drove away from the station, and ten minutes later, ended up at the seedy bar where they first met. The “no androids” sign had been taken off the door due to recent laws, making Connor feel more welcome. But two steps into the place and the atmosphere made it clear he wasn't welcome here. Connor was starting to learn that even if the law said one thing, humans didn’t necessarily say the same. 

He gave hesitant, friendly smiles to some of the patrons in the bar, who scowled or outright ignored him. Hank made a beeline to the bar and sat right down in his usual seat, waving the bartender over and ordering what he always did. Connor sat next to him reluctantly. Most of the patrons had varying levels of intoxication, from what he could analyze, and majority had varying levels of severity when it came to their criminal records. 

Connor turned his attention to the Lieutenant, who had already knocked back a single drink with a heavy sigh. Then he gestured to the bartender again, which brought out signals of concern within Connor’s system.

“Lieutenant, I believe that one drink is enough. You are already intoxicated. Another drink would make you feel worse."

“You’re making me feel worse, with all the yapping you’re doing. Just shut up and let me have a drink,” he replied. Connor wanted to intervene but the outcome of that would be negative. At least, his pre-constructions told him that no way of doing it would lead to a positive result. So he stayed quiet and just watched as the Lieutenant was handed another drink. 

“That’s better,” Hank said, after a few minutes of silence from Connor’s end. He took a few sips from his drink before putting a hand right onto Connor’s thigh, surprising the android. The gesture was unusual and immediately, he ran through reasons as to why Hank would be doing this. His final conclusion guessed that it was some friendly drunken gesture. Another conclusion would’ve been something more intimate, but that was highly unlikely, given the nature of their relationship - which was professional. 

“Lieutenant--”

“You’re cuter when you don’t talk.” 

Cute? The word was understood to be a compliment, but it was hard to understand why his work partner was saying such a thing. His databases told him that such a term was reserved for endearing things, such as baby animals or someone attractive. It was impossible that Hank would be using this term to describe Connor as attractive. After all, Connor knew the Lieutenant to be heterosexual. He had a wife at one point in time, and even a son. There was no reason to interpret this as a romantic gesture. 

But Connor was having real difficulty understanding the situation. For the intelligent android detective that he was, he certainly had little experience when it came to social interactions like this. He was far more used to logical things like putting together clues of a puzzle or interrogating a suspect. 

“I don’t understand the relevance of that, Lieutenant.”

“Cut the Lieutenant shit. Just call me Hank,” he grumbled, though his hand stayed on Connor’s leg. The touch seemed different. Connor remembered the pressure and sensitivity of other touches Hank gave him - like a pat on the shoulder, a handshake on occasion, a friendly nudge, a hug. It was different. And Connor’s LED had been yellow for a good long minute now, while he tried to make sense of the situation. 

It gave enough time for Hank to finish his drink, and then he seemed to have enough, because his hand moved off of Connor’s leg and he stood up, throwing a few bills onto the counter for the bartender to take. 

“C’mon. Let’s go."

Connor’s thoughts changed, becoming distracted by the man’s decision to leave. It brought out what he felt was relief. If Hank continued to drink, it might’ve led to alcohol poisoning - namely, in the form of vomiting or loss of consciousness.

“Yes, lieu-- uh, Hank.” Connor corrected himself, his system abruptly reminding him of Hank’s command on how he was to be addressed. Hank chuckled upon hearing Connor correct himself, and the two of them left the bar.

* * *

Soon they were at Hank’s home. Connor was greeted by Sumo and took a moment to give the dog a scratch behind the ears. He was learning how to handle and interpret human emotions. But dogs? Perhaps one day he’d put in the effort to study animals and their behaviour. 

Either way, Connor was hoping to go over some important stuff with Hank tonight. Most importantly his abuse of alcohol. Another topic that he wanted to bring up was how to repair his relationship with Gavin. Since Hank was wise and experienced within the police department, he knew what Gavin was usually like. It would be invaluable to hear his view on things.

“Make yourself at home,” Hank said, gesturing to the couch in the living room. Connor sat down onto the couch while Hank went into the kitchen, and looked around the place. The air quality was poor, likely because the windows hadn’t been opened for some time, and there was the scent of alcohol hanging around. Unclean dishes were on the coffee table and in other places, clothing was thrown astray. It wasn’t a neat place. 

Hank returned to the living room with another bottle of beer. This time, Connor really couldn’t let this slide. The human was veering into the territory of alcohol poisoning and it was in his best interests to make sure Hank avoided that discomfort. So as soon as the man sat down, he reached over and yanked the bottle out of his hand, setting it onto the table.

“I’m sorry, lieu-- Hank, but this is going to make you feel worse. You need to stop drinking right now.”

“What the hell was that for?” Hank cursed, his words starting to slur. “Give me my goddamn beer.”

“I can’t let you have any more alcohol. It’s going to make you sick.”

“Yeah, what would you know? If you were me, you’d be drinking all day long.”

“I can’t understand why you need to do that. Could you explain?”

“Need me to explain?” Hank said, looking amused though sounding quite annoyed. 

“I would appreciate it if you did, yes.”

“I drink all the fucking time because I have to work with a goddamn android.”

This confession of animosity was unexpected. Connor didn’t know how to react at first. He had many options, and decided to go with a cautious approach to the topic. If he reacted defensively, it could cause the situation to escalate. 

“I didn’t realize my presence caused an issue for you.”

“Yeah, it fucks things up. It’s fucked because you’re making me feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“What am I doing to cause that?” Connor asked, brows furrowed. It made no sense. He certainly wasn’t doing anything to make the man to doubt his own sanity. 

“Acting like a fag around me, that’s what you’re doing."

The slur was unfamiliar to him. It took Connor a moment to think before finding the appropriate definition for it. It was a slang term in Britain but derogatory in the United States, where it was used against men who were gay. Connor certainly did not agree with Hank’s statement. He was not doing anything to act… homosexual. He wasn’t even aware he was making any romantic gestures. Connor’s main goal was to just do his job.

Hank went on, apparently on a drunken tirade. “... Wearing pants that show off your ass, sucking up to me and practically begging me to take you home to fuck you. They programmed you to act like a slut around me.”

Connor began to feel offended. There was no logical reasoning to any of what Hank was saying. He was either hallucinating, delusional, or just confused due to his drunkenness. But Connor had no time to think about that because he was startled by Hank clamping a hand down onto his leg, giving it a harsh squeeze.

“But that’s okay. If they want me to fuck you, I’ll do it. I’ll see what your pretty little ass and mouth can do.”

“Hank, that’s inappropriate. I am not interested in engaging in sexual intercourse with you. That is not appropriate for our relationship.”

“Bullshit with what’s appropriate and what’s not!” Hank said, voice raising in volume. “You think that you can get away with acting like a whore in front of me, they think that I’m into men, that’s what this is all about. CyberLife sent you to me because they wanted to use you as blackmail against me.” 

The loud way Hank spoke kicked Connor’s system into high alert. There was trouble brewing and he needed to calm him down before it progressed. “You are intoxicated and being unreasonable, and you are misunderstanding our relationship entirely-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Hank shouted, before slapping Connor in the face, rendering the android helpless. He took the opportunity to pin Connor down onto the couch the way he would’ve pinned down an escaping criminal - needless to say, Connor was trapped and frightened. His LED turned red.

“Hank, stop! You don’t understand what you’re doing!”

“I understand what I’m doing, alright. I’m about to teach a bitch a lesson.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic depictions of rape/non-consensual sex. Hank is also a very bad man.
> 
> Please do not read if you are not comfortable.
> 
> Thank you.

Connor’s system sent out warnings about the situation at hand. He was in trouble, being pinned down like this. There were options on how to proceed: fight back, convince Hank to let him go, or just roll with whatever was happening in hopes that he could escape. 

Fighting back wasn’t a good idea because Connor didn’t want to jeopardize his relationship with the Lieutenant. Despite what was going on, he hoped that they would still have a positive relationship after this. This couldn’t be malicious on purpose. Hank was just drunk and acting irrationally because of his intoxication. He’d been single for a long time and was only acting on natural impulses that all humans had - even if Connor was a man and Hank’s natural inclination was towards women. Hell, he even called Connor a bitch. That had to be it. It was the only logical explanation Connor could think of. 

Convincing Hank didn’t seem like a good idea either. Reasoning was the last thing he was capable of in this condition. He'd already brushed aside Connor’s concerns.

So the only choice was to allow Hank to carry on until Connor found a chance to break free and make a run for it. He hadn’t ever been this frightened. The closest he could think of was when he was chasing that deviant android and her kid across the automated highway. But it wasn’t like this. The danger never felt personal like this. 

“Just let me go. I’m sorry,” Connor said, in an effort to placate the man. He wasn’t sure what he was sorry for but his system determined that being apologetic increased his chance of being let go. 

It didn't work. Hank ignored his pleas and looked Connor over.

"Good thing you don't work for CyberLife no more. Now I get to do whatever I want with the whore they sent over..."

"Lieutenant, I am not a whore!" Connor protested. As much as his system instructed him to cooperate, the obvious attack on his identity wasn't appreciated. He was first and foremost, an android who served as a detective. Not a sex bot.

Hank grew angry. "What did I say about calling me Lieutenant?" he said, slapping Connor in the face again. "Fuck it. You should just call me daddy. I bet a little faggot like you would be into that."

It took a moment before Connor came back to his senses.

"You are not my father so I have no reason to be calling--"

"Shut up," Hank retorted. He rolled Connor over and pulled his lower half onto his lap. His hand grabbed a fistful of his dark brown hair, smothering Connor's face into the cushion of the couch. Now, his gaze shifted down Connor's body again and his other hand went to work pulling down his pants and underwear.

The android knew he had to stop this from happening. This was the beginning of what humans called rape. It was unfortunate that Connor was equipped with genitalia that most androids didn't have. CyberLife assumed that he might have to seduce a suspect to get more information, or pass as a sex robot at a club to investigate. But they hadn't given him it for the purpose of letting Hank assault him. 

"Stop!" Connor shouted, though his cries were muffled by the cushion. He wriggled and tried freeing himself out of Hank's grasp. Gone were the thoughts of preserving his relationship with the Lieutenant. His system flew into panic mode as he realized the possibility of being raped was very high at this point in time. 

Unfortunately, Hank was a well seasoned police officer who still had strength left in him, despite his alcoholic ways. He had no problem holding Connor down as he managed to pull his pants and underwear down, revealing his smooth, bare bottom.

"Nice," Hank slurred, chuckling to himself, "didn't know that your ass could be so cute."

"Please, just stop." 

Hank responded with a hard slap to Connor's ass. The android let out a cry of surprise. Though he couldn't feel pain, he could certainly feel the sting and pressure the spank caused. 

"Yeah... You like that, don't you?" 

Hank's voice was taking on a tone and quality that Connor could only interpret as lust. And in turn, it made him feel gross. Disgusted. Unpleasant. Hank lifted Connor's head from the couch, to allow him to speak.

"No, I don't like it."

"Didn't fucking ask," Hank said, smacking his bare bottom again and again, bringing out yelps and cries from Connor at each smack. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson. Show you who's in charge around here, teach you how to stop being such a bitch in heat when you're around me."

Connor couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was the person he worked with, looked up to, viewed as a role model despite his addiction, and all together seemed like a man who could cause no harm. He trusted Hank. And in turn, the man thought he was being seductive? Promiscuous? Did he even see Connor as an equal partner in their line of work?

He'd come here to talk with Hank and spend time with him. To have a good time bonding with a human and learning more. Instead, he was now on the verge of being sexually assaulted.

Hank shoved his face back down into the cushion, leaving him little room to ventilate properly. Though Connor didn't breathe like humans did, his systems were heating up and he felt himself gasp as he tried to cool down the excess heat building inside of him. He needed to get out of this situation before there'd be damage done to his biocomponents.

He began to kick and struggle as hard as he could in hopes that Hank would loosen his grip. It worked, causing the man to loosen the grip on his hair. But this fumbling and wriggling also angered the man, who struck Connor in the head. Error messages flashed in his vision as he lost sense of what was going on thanks to the hard blow. He turned his head to breathe, in an attempt to cool himself. 

In the meantime, Hank spat onto his fingers and rubbed them messily all along the crook of Connor's ass. The feel of wetness against his hole caused him to gasp. It was a strange and uncomfortable sensation. He never touched himself down there at all. He had no desire to. What was the point of it? 

Hank spat some more onto his fingers and spread the spit all around Connor's tight, unused entrance.

"Looking tight down here. Ever get fucked before?" 

"No -- this isn't right - just stop!" he cried, voice rising in volume and turning into a squeal when he felt Hank push a finger into him. The feel of a finger inside his ass was wrong. It felt wrong to have something up here, and his insides stretched uncomfortably around it. He could imagine that if he was human, this would've been very painful. 

"Real tight up here... Must be a virgin."

"Take it out!" Connor begged. His system detected the possibility of damage if Hank moved his finger without any lubricant to assist it. So his insides released the artificial lubricant it reserved for activities down here, coating Hank's finger liberally within a moment.

"Well, shit..." Hank said in wonder. He withdrew his finger and examined the slick, clear fluid that coated it. Connor sighed in relief, but his relief was short-lived. The man jammed his finger right back into Connor again, and started moving it in and out without abandon. The android squirmed and cried out in absolute discomfort. He couldn't believe it.

Connor's system wasn't sure how to deal with this kind of experience. If it'd been consensual, he would've downloaded some information beforehand on how to handle things to do with anal. But since he wasn't prepared for this, he was totally clueless and frightened by what was happening to him. Hank added another finger along with the first, stretching Connor's insides uncomfortably.

"Thought you just had an asshole, didn't realize it was a pussy. It's getting all wet for me."

Something about this registered as humiliating. The way Hank spoke about his body couldn't possibly be respectful. Then again, the wet, sloppy noises that came from the fingers moving inside him were crude. It wasn't Connor's fault. His body was just trying to protect itself from damage. But this just wasn't proper. 

Connor tried his best to speak properly and get the man to stop. "Hank, take your fingers out. This is really unpleasant for me, I'd like you to stop."

Of course, Hank ignored him. His fingers continued to move in and out, creating a sensation that could be interpreted as pleasure since they hit somewhere sensitive deep inside of him. Connor whimpered and whined at the feeling.

"Yeah, yeah, be patient. I'll fuck you soon enough." Hank said, misinterpreting his sounds of discomfort as pleasure. He pulled his slick-coated fingers out and pushed Connor off of his lap and onto the floor. Connor was in a daze as he tried to get up but Hank was atop of him before he could get anywhere, pulling his pants down completely. The man forced him onto his hands and knees. Connor heard the sound of a belt unbuckling, and jeans being unzipped.

Then there was a feeling of something hard being pressed against his hole. It didn’t feel like Hank's fingers. 

Connor’s eyes widened. “What are you--”

“I haven’t fucked anyone since my wife was around. Might be a little rusty.”

It was clear what was going to happen, but it was too late to react. He felt the man’s cock being pushed into him, stretching him far more than his fingers had. And Hank wasn’t being gentle either. He shoved himself into Connor in one go. All the way up to the hilt.

The intrusion caught Connor off guard and the discomfort was unbearable. He’d never felt so full down here. There was no feeling comparable to it. His insides grasped along Hank’s length, causing him to moan at the feeling. Connor was so wet and tight, it was unbelievable. 

“Ah, shit… you’re so fucking tight,” Hank muttered, “maybe I won’t regret fucking a little bitch like you after all.” 

In combination with the discomfort, violation, and disrespect, Connor had enough.

“This is rape, it’s illegal and I will be reporting you!” he exclaimed. Hank just laughed. 

“Go ahead. Report me. Who’ll they believe? They’ll think your software’s gone faulty and they’ll reset you…” With that said, Hank began to pull out of Connor, providing him a second of relief, only to intensify the feeling when he rammed himself right back in. 

Tears came to Connor’s eyes and started to roll down his cheeks. It wasn’t tears of pain, sadness - moreso frustration, because he didn’t understand how this could be happening to him. And he couldn’t understand why it had to be Hank who was doing it. The man he trusted now on top of him, inside of him, his breath heavy against the nape of his neck - it was unbearable. Connor let out cries of discomfort with each movement Hank made.

All of this was just the result of intoxication and pent-up desire. That was all it was. It was human nature. It was nothing personal or malicious. This was what Connor told himself over and over as Hank worked his way inside him and panted against his ear. 

The worst part was, Connor felt himself growing erect as it happened. 

He never got a hard-on. Ever. This was the first one since the day of his activation, and it was confusing how much his cock ached to be touched. It didn’t help that the sensitive spot inside him was being hit over and over with Hank’s blunt, harsh thrusts. He tried shutting off these sensory signals inside his system, but they still leaked through anyways, forcing him to acknowledge these signals as pleasure. Unwanted pleasure. 

Connor squeezed his eyes shut and resisted the urge to make more noise. Hank, on the other hand, was cursing Connor for a variety of reasons - whether it be for Connor having a tight ass, for him being a whore, a faggot, a slut, it all sounded the same to him. This, combined with the slick and obscene sounds from their joining, was all just horrendous noise to him. 

Forget it. Maybe he was feeling uncomfortable, but at least Hank was feeling pleasure. That was all that mattered, right?

Connor needed to find something positive out of the situation to ensure that their relationship could carry on as normal after this. Even if he threatened to report the man, he wouldn’t have gone through with it. There was no life for him outside the police department and he wasn’t going to risk being thrown out of it. 

Some of the other androids blended into society just fine and lived like the humans did. But Connor couldn’t see a life for himself without someone telling him what to do. He couldn’t see a life for himself where he wasn’t working at the station, where he wasn’t by Hank’s side.

He had to do whatever it took to keep his life together. Even if it meant being uncomfortable and making some sacrifices.

That was what he told himself, as Hank gave a couple of hard thrusts into him, a moan and then left a flood of heat within his insides. 

At least he could make someone happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been updating this very quickly because I end up being able to write more than expected.
> 
> Sorry if it seems rushed, I don't use a beta. I just want to get this story out of my brain as fast as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some elements of smut in it and also name calling, victim-blaming, violation of boundaries, all that kind of stuff.
> 
> Please do not read if you are not comfortable with this.
> 
> Thank you for your support. Your comments are really nice to read and I appreciate them!

Hank passed out moments later, slumping onto Connor. The android managed to pry himself out from underneath him and sighed with relief. It was over, Hank probably wouldn't wake up until the morning and by then, everything could go back to normal. They could go back to working as partners and would get along just fine. Right? Connor felt no pain but there was a strange emptiness in his bottom after Hank was out of him. Upon running a systems diagnostic, he detected no damage from what Hank did to him… thankfully. 

Connor started to pull his pants back on, but paused when he felt something warm leaking out of him. It trickled down his thigh and he used a finger to wipe it off. He visually assessed the white, sticky fluid. An inevitable product of sexual activity. What humans called semen. Or more informally, cum, according to his databases.

It didn’t belong inside him. His system kept sending him alerts of the foreign substance inside him, and he felt dirty. He needed to get clean as soon as possible. That was his task.

But first, his system wanted to analyze the substance. Crime scenes only ever offered the chance to sample blood, but never any other human fluids like this. Being the curious machine that he was, he raised his fingers to his mouth, pushing them against his tongue. The taste registered as salty and bitter. Altogether, unpleasant. His databases recognized a DNA profile belonging to Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Perhaps this was useful information he would need later. 

A part of him just wished this could’ve been done without putting Hank’s cum into his mouth. Because after he’d done it, a rush of emotions came over him. He detected emotions of regret, disgust, and shame, caused by putting something like that into his mouth. Blood and chemicals were different. They weren’t like this. 

He continued on with pulling on his underwear, then pants. Now, his attention diverted to the unconscious man lying at his feet. The obvious thing he needed to do next was to help him. But another part of Connor - the logical part of his system - suggested that because Hank assaulted him, he was under no obligation to help.

Yet another struggle took place as he weighed out the options. His LED glowed yellow, yellow, and yellow as he tried to make a decision. But in the end, he wanted to help Hank. He wanted to maintain a good relationship with the Lieutenant. And to do that, he had to help him. Being an ass-kisser was just a part of his program.

So Connor knelt down - trying to ignore the feel of cum dripping out of him - and got to work getting Hank’s pants back on. After managing to do so, he hauled Hank up from the floor and set him onto the couch. Connor detected a regular heartbeat and breathing pattern, so he’d just be fine. 

But he took a moment to stare at Hank. This was the person he trusted. He was the only human at the station who showed him any kindness. And now all Connor could think about was the insults and things he’d done to him. Humans were good at hiding things. He knew this based on the countless suspects they interrogated.

He just didn't think that Hank would hide anything from him. 

Connor remembered the two deviant androids they chased at the Eden Club. The two women were in love with each other. Hank said nothing about it at the time, and only brought it up the evening after when they were sitting in the park. It seemed normal at the time. But now Connor wondered if Hank was trying to see his reaction. To test his sexuality. Or perhaps he wanted to speak hatefully about them but needed to see if Connor would be receptive to such talk. 

What was so wrong with being with another man? Whether it be romantically or sexually, Connor saw nothing negative about it. Why did Hank hate it so much? Didn’t Connor make him feel good? And didn’t Connor make him come at the end? So why was it wrong? 

He didn’t want to think about this. To distract himself, he decided to take a shower. But even then, while cleaning himself, he couldn’t forget how Hank had handled him and been so rough with him. Maybe the man was going through a lot and part of what he did came from stress in his life. His system was playing around with possibilities of why he’d assaulted him. He just needed to justify it somehow and it would make him feel better.

Perhaps the state of his living conditions influenced Hank's mood. After Connor’s shower, he went around the home, tidying up various things like dirty dishes, clothes, bits of garbage. He made the home somewhat presentable before he walked back over to Hank to see if he was awake. Nope. Still passed out to the world. Connor had no reason to be here anymore - it was time to go. 

He took one last look at the man and said, “good night.” 

An hour or so later, Connor managed to walk back to the station. He didn’t have a home to live in. The police department was nice enough to let him have this job but they still saw him as a machine. Machines could be left in the station, turned off for the evening, and booted back up in the morning. They didn’t need a fancy apartment nor a bed to sleep in. So all Connor could do was sit at his desk for hours while he waited for the sun to rise. 

* * *

Hank came into the station unusually late that morning. By the time he walked in, Connor was already doing his research on the reports that’d come in last night. Reports he didn't see because he was too busy being raped by the man he worked with. Connor tried to not think about it that way. 

“Connor!” 

The android jumped upon hearing Hank greet him. He could detect the presence of alcohol in the air as Hank walked over to him. Typical - already drunk and it wasn’t even noon yet. 

“Good morning, Hank,” Connor said. He had to continue treating their relationship professionally. What happened couldn’t get in the way of their ability to work together. The man leant over, close enough to the point where Connor could smell the alcohol on his breath. He spoke to him in a low voice so that others couldn't hear.

“You cleaned up my place. Was that a thank you gift for me fucking you? Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.” 

Connor scooted away from him, with the help of his office chair. He purposely avoided eye contact and began to speak about the work that needed to be done. Acknowledging Hank's misbehavior would be unprofessional. They needed to get back on track as soon as possible.

"Hank, we’ve received report of an incident at the Eden Club. We should go investigate.” 

“Alright,” Hank straightened up and went to his own desk. Connor watched after him but said nothing. He needed to stay professional. That was all. 

* * *

They ended up in Hank’s car with Connor as the driver again. The drive was in silence, but at some point Hank put a hand onto Connor’s leg like he’d done so in the past and made no move to remove it. Not even when Connor parked the car near the club and cleared his throat politely.   
  
“We’re here. Shall we go inside?”  
  
“Ah, fuck,” Hank cursed, looking annoyed as he undid his seatbelt, “this is useless.”  
  
Connor pushed Hank’s hand off his leg and undid his own. “We can’t delay this any further or else we’ll lose important leads on the investigation.”  
  
“Hey!” Hank exclaimed. The outburst surprised Connor and did the trick in getting his attention, especially when the hand clamped right back down onto his leg. “I decide what we get to do. Don’t forget what your job is. It’s not telling me what to do.”  
  
“... I apologize, but I’m only trying to recommend what’s best for the case.”  
  
Hank grew distracted and looked back out at the digital signage of the club advertising scantily clad androids in various poses. He chuckled.  
  
“Heh. I didn’t know what the big fuss was about androids. Not until I had a bit of your ass last night,” Hank said, looking back at Connor. He eyed the android up and down. The look in his eyes was akin to a hungry animal. 

Connor didn’t like this. 

Clearly, Hank was not the right person for conducting the investigation. Connor felt like he knew what was best for both of them and he wanted to lead. Unfortunately, going against Hank would ruin their relationship. And maybe even cost him his job. So he stayed passive, but firm.   
  
“Hank, this needs to stay professional. Let’s go.”   
  
But Hank was already going down a different route.  
  
“You ever try sucking cock before?”  
  
The obscenity of the question left Connor with no way to answer. Not until he processed it completely and understood how inappropriate it was.   
  
“That is irrelevant to our current investigation. You’re intoxicated again, and not thinking properly.”   
  
“Must be a good cocksucker. Bet you got one hot mouth there, Connor.”  
  
This interaction was getting worse. But Connor didn’t dare leave the car, in fear he’d upset the Lieutenant and drive a rift between them. So he stayed sitting but decided not to answer the question. Whatever he’d say, it would cause Hank to twist it the wrong way. But this seemed to only make him angrier.  
  
“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you love sucking cock, you little faggot!” Hank shouted at him, after Connor gave no reply.   
  
“We should go,” he said, growing nervous, “I’m sure that there’s officers we need to talk to in the club.”   
  
Hank started undoing his jeans. “Talk can wait.”

“I do not wish to do this, Hank, and forcing me into it is a form of sexual assault.”

“Quit your talking and just do your fucking job.”

Connor was feeling more and more exasperated by the second. So Hank was serious, wasn't he? There wasn't a point in tolerating this. He made a move to open the door but Hank ignored him and finished unzipping his jeans, pulling down his boxers to reveal his erection. This distracted Connor completely and he was back at square one. Sitting in the car with Hank, who now wanted him to do something disgusting. 

“It’s all ready for you. Suck it, bitch.” 

Connor was greatly offended now. Disrespectful and inappropriate comments like that were not to be tolerated, as they disagreed with his system. 

“No. I refuse.” 

“Suck it or else you’ll lose your job!” 

The threat alarmed him. He quickly took the hard cock in his hand and made a face at the feeling. This wasn’t right. The feel of the hard, hot flesh within his hand, the hum of approval from Hank, the circumstances around their situation. It was completely inappropriate. 

“That’s right. If you don’t listen, you’ll be fired. So be a good little robot and give me head.”

Being called a robot was just as offensive as the homophobic slurs Hank was dealing out to him. 

But Hank was starting to raise Connor’s stress levels, with all this talk about losing his job if he didn’t listen. Even if Hank was a ridiculed drunkard at work, he still held weight in the department as Lieutenant and it was clear that anyone would side with Hank on an issue rather than with Connor - who they viewed as a machine, plain and simple. Humans would always have the upper hand.

“I don’t want to put this into my mouth,” Connor admitted, “we need to focus on the investigation. This is wasting our time.”

“Enough talk. Do it or you’ll end up in the landfill.”

Connor still didn't want to do this, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being shut down and turned into scrap metal for the landfill. And it was obvious that Hank wasn’t going anywhere until the android fulfilled his wishes. Hank was growing irritated.

“Fine, if I can’t use your mouth, let me use your hand.”

A sexual act with his hand - what humans called a handjob. Unpleasant, but ten times better than letting Hank put that part of him into his mouth. Why was he letting Hank force him into this? He wasn’t an android that belonged to anybody. Androids had freedom now. He was his own person. He had his own rights. 

But part of him wanted to make Hank happy. He wanted to keep this idyllic life as a police detective and live through the fulfillment of solving crimes for the rest of his days. Some things like this just had to be done to keep everything going the way it should. Connor told himself not to be selfish and give Hank what he wanted. That he had to do this, that it was inevitable and he should just get it over with so they could go on investigating at the club. 

“Alright then,” Connor finally agreed. A large part of him disagreed with doing this, but he had to. It was for his own good - or so he thought.

He’d never done this but he guessed he just had to move his hand and get Hank off as quick as possible. So he did that in the best way that he could.

Connor tried thinking of other things like the details of this case, rather than focusing on the way his hand looked as it moved along Hank’s cock. The feel of it, hard and hot in his hand. He tried his best to tune out the sounds of pleasure and approval Hank was making. The same sounds he made when he was doing Connor, forcing him into it. 

He hated this. 

* * *

Approximately four minutes and fifty-three seconds passed before he detected Hank’s breathing quicken, heart rate increase, and then the inevitable happened. He came with a groan and majority of the cum landed onto Connor’s hand. Immediately, he pulled his hand away and tried grabbing one of the tissues he kept in his pocket - mostly for Hank, who seemed to have more of a runny nose than usual lately. But Hank grabbed his wrist midway and held it tightly.

“Clean it up yourself. Lick it off,” he demanded. 

What kind of a demand was that? Connor tried pulling his wrist away, but to no avail.

“I can use a tissue. There is no reason for me to lick it off.”

“Connor,” Hank said, “do as I say. Or else.”

There was a tone to Hank’s voice that made him understand that there really would be consequences if he didn’t listen. He pre-constructed ways to get out of this, but in the end, he gave up. Going with what Hank wanted was easier and best for their relationship. Best for Connor's career. Best for everybody.

His LED turned yellow, as if it were a sign of his resignation, and he lowered his head until his lips touched the side of his hand. It was disgusting, the feel and taste of the dirty fluid on his tongue and in his mouth as he lapped all of it up, forcing himself to swallow. When he finished, he straightened back up and looked at Hank, who’d been watching him with a smirk on his face. 

“Next time I’ll be putting it straight into your mouth.”

Connor finally yanked his wrist free from the man's grasp. “Hank, we need to go. _Now_.” He didn’t like using a stern tone with the Lieutenant, but they were seriously late and needed to be at the scene. And he needed to get out of the car before Hank wanted to do more.

“Alright, alright,” Hank said.

* * *

Soon they were out of the car and walking into the neon-lit club. Scantily clad androids danced on stages with poles or in glass displays. Tracis like these used to do all of this just to make money for humans. But now, they had their own rights, and many chose to work here on their own terms. Apparently, the money was good. Connor wouldn’t know. He didn’t want to know. Sex made him uncomfortable - for obvious reasons.  
  
“You should go and dance in one of those, I bet you’d like doing that,” Hank said to Connor, as he leered at the androids in the displays. Connor glanced around and was relieved to see that there weren’t any officers around nearby. They must’ve been further back in the club. He really didn’t want anybody hearing or seeing the way Hank was behaving around him - it was humiliating.  
  
“We need to focus on the investigation,” Connor replied, ignoring his inappropriate comment, “they said there was some drug deal here at the club and things became violent. A woman was killed by a male Traci.” 

Connor went through the details in his mind again. They should interview anyone in the vicinity. Maybe even the other Tracis, who could’ve recorded the suspect running away. They reached the back of the club to a private room where a woman lay on the bed, motionless. Blood pooled around her and a quick analysis showed that she'd been stabbed to death. An officer was examining evidence while another took photos of the scene. It looked like there was lots of evidence to work with. Even the weapon was left behind on the floor.

One of the officers came up to Connor and Hank.

“They say the suspect was a male android who works for a dealer. Apparently, this woman was supposed to be picking up some red ice, but something happened, and now she’s dead, and he’s gone with her money.”

“Alright. We’ll take a look,” Connor said. The officer nodded and went back to helping the others. Connor scanned the scene and was in the midst of creating a re-construction of what happened, when he felt Hank move to stand awfully close to him. He didn’t understand. Did Hank want to make a move or something? In front of all these people? He really couldn’t stand it.  
  
“I… just need to look around. I’ll be right back,” Connor said, quickly leaving the room.

* * *

Once he was away from that, he let out a sigh of relief. This was a case that could be easily solved with the evidence at the scene. It would be easy to re-construct what happened. But all of that would be for nothing if Hank was just going to try groping him in public.

Still, Connor felt guilty. What was wrong with him? Why did he have to leave like that? Hank was his partner in this job. They needed to work together. He needed to stop letting what happened get in the way of this. This was _his_ fault. Right?

But either way, Connor felt glad that Hank didn’t follow him out.   
  
Now that he had some time alone, he wandered around. He’d been here once. The whole incident with the blue-haired Traci and her lover. He wondered where they were now. Were they happy? 

He needed to do something to clear his mind. Maybe he could go to the washroom and wash his hand off. Just in case. Rinse his mouth to get all traces of Hank's release out of it. Perhaps cleaniness would make him feel better.

Connor scouted for an exit that led to the washrooms. He found it and wandered over, pausing when he saw someone talking to a club worker. They sounded frustrated, and on the verge of getting angry.  
  
“I’m telling you, it’s a male android, RK800. You’ve got to have one of those somewhere here, right?”  
  
“I’m sorry sir, but we only utilize androids designed for sex, primarily Traci models under the HR and WR series.” 

RK800? Well, that was Connor’s model. And he was still the only RK800 around. He approached the two and then realized who was asking for his model.  
  
“Detective… Reed?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, 
> 
> This chapter contains smut, reference to drug usage, homophobia, victim blaming and just plain horrible treatment towards Connor in general.
> 
> Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> Thank you.

Gavin looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"It's good to see you--" Connor began, but the man had already turned and went through the exit, heading into one of the washrooms. It was clear that he didn't want to see him, and that made Connor frown. All he wanted to do was to make amends, was that so wrong?

So he went after Gavin and walked into the washroom. A door to one of the stalls was closed whilst all the other stalls were empty. 

Connor walked over to the occupied stall and knocked on the door. "Detective Reed, I'm sorry if I caught you by surprise. Were you looking for me?"

He was met with a hard bang to the door, making Connor back away. 

"Leave me alone, you stupid plastic prick." 

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to interrupt anything."

The stall door swung open and there Gavin stood, looking like he wanted to punch Connor in the face. He walked over to Connor and had to look up a bit to speak with him.

"You interrupted nothing."

Connor looked at him curiously. "You were asking for an RK800 here. That's my model, and I'm a prototype. There are no other models like myself. I was never released to the public. And my function was never to be--"

He cut Connor off. "-- a sex robot, or whatever. Yeah, I get it. What, you think I was here looking for an android like you to fuck? Is that what you think?"

Gavin's stress levels were unusually high. An analysis allowed Connor to come to the conclusion that he was feeling insecure, for some reason or another. He needed to calm Gavin down.

"No, I don't think that at all."

"I was looking for an android like you to use as a punching bag. Yeah, a plastic punching bag. That's it."

"At a sex club?"

Gavin's expression changed and he threw a punch at Connor, hitting him in the chin. The android stumbled backwards and grabbed onto the sink for support. 

"They don't rent these stupid machines anywhere else, and I don't wanna buy one. Understand?"

It seemed like flawed reasoning, but Connor needed to repair his relationship with Gavin as fast as he could. And he didn't want to run the risk of getting hurt. 

"Okay, I understand," he said, as he straightened up, "though I'm sure the other Tracis would've been suitable for that purpose." 

Gavin laughed. "You're so fucking dense. Can't believe they gave you _my_ job."

"Detective Reed, that was beyond my control. I wanted to talk to you about that earlier."

"Beyond your control? What, you don't think that I know you're Hank's bitch?" Gavin said, "you probably bend over for him every single lunch break. I bet you both were in on it, you cocksucker."

So now Gavin thought he was acting sexual around Hank? Was that really how it came across? Connor did things to get along with Hank, like help with paperwork and sort through evidence, but none of that was sexual at all. What made Gavin think he was acting unprofessionally like that?

"My relationship with Lieutenant Anderson is strictly professional. I had no influence on the department's decision for me to take over. Perhaps we could compromise - we can share the job, if you'd like."

Gavin made a face. "Forget it. I'd rather be working out on the streets than with you and that closeted old man."

"Closeted old man?" Connor repeated these words. Closeted, a word for a repressed homosexual. And old man, which described Hank's age. But was Hank really gay? He didn't think so. 

"Yeah," Gavin said, a smirk appearing on his face, "we caught him watching porn at work once. Just ask him what he likes. _Android twink getting pounded hard. Cute guy sucks cock._ All of that shit. Still denies it and says he loves his wife, who probably left him because she saw him watching two dudes fuck each other. And you think that I wouldn't catch onto how he felt about you when you showed up?" 

It took him a good moment to process all of this information. So he knew about Hank being like this? He knew about Hank's behavior?

"Has he acted inappropriately around other people in the department?" Connor needed some answers to some questions. Slowly, but surely, an idea was forming in his mind. But he needed all the help he could get.

"Nah, that would get him fired. But you, you're some stupid machine who's all young and pretty, so he knows you're not gonna say shit. Almost feel bad that you're stuck with that wino."

Forget about the insult. Gavin knew about Hank, his ways, and could offer him a solution to this problem of what Hank was doing to him. He was a human. No matter what, even with androids having rights, humans still had the upper hand.

It was unwise, but he grabbed ahold of Gavin's arm. "I need your help."

Immediately, Gavin tried pulling his arm away. But Connor wasn't going to let go.

"Help with what? Let go of me," he spat, growing irritated. The good part about deviancy was that Connor didn't have to listen. 

"Lieutenant Anderson has been acting inappropriately towards me. I was wondering, that since you know a great deal about him, you could get the inappropriate behaviour to stop." 

Gavin paused in struggling and looked at Connor.

"Inappropriate behaviour? Like what?"

Connor knew that it was taboo to talk about sexual things, but he had no choice. It was just what he had to do. 

"He sexually assaulted me once, and did so again today."

"Sexually assaulted? That doesn't tell me jack shit," Gavin said, narrowing his eyes, "tell me what he did to you."

"I... don't understand how details would be useful, Detective Reed."

"Stop calling me that. I'm not a detective anymore, thanks to your plastic ass."

"Okay, would you prefer Gavin, then?"

"Reed is fine, now spit it out. Or else I won't help you."

Connor felt some panic, and quickly spoke up.

"He fucked me, and then today, he made me give him a handjob." 

The swear felt strange coming out of his mouth. It wasn't right. Androids were programmed to be polite and uncouth. Swears were undignified. Same with sexual acts. But he knew that if he said something technical, Gavin would've been pissed off. So he had to sink down to his level in terms of language.

"Oh wow," Gavin said slowly, smirking again, "he went all the way with you, and you didn't want it?"

Connor let out a sound of exasperation. "Of course not, as our relationship is strictly professional, and I do not want to get involved with him in that way."

"So he really did fuck you."

"Yes, he did."

"Did you like it?"

"No!" 

Connor couldn't believe it. He didn't expect Gavin to coddle him and start an impromptu counseling session about what happened. But he didn't expect him to start asking for details either. It was beginning to make him sick.

"You probably liked doing that sort of shit with that dirty old man, and then you jerked him off. Doesn't really sound like assault to me."

"Please," Connor begged, growing desperate, "you need to help me. They're not going to listen unless a human files a complaint."

"Why the hell do you think I'd help you?" Gavin managed to pull his arm out of Connor's grip, "you took my job. You're a piece of plastic. I don't need to help pricks like you."

"Please, just this once." 

Gavin seemed to be thinking, and a strange expression crossed his face.

"Okay, sure. I'll help you."

Connor let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you--"

"On one condition."

He paused. "What?"

"You get in there," Gavin pointed to one of the stalls, "and suck my cock." 

This wasn't what Connor expected. When Gavin said he could help, he expected help in the form of filling out a form that Connor could bring to Fowler, to lodge a formal complaint. Not some kind of exchange for sex. This was almost as bad as the alternative, since Hank wanted the exact same thing from him twenty minutes earlier.

"I can't do that. I am not going to have sex with you. That's not what I am looking for."

"Then I don't have to help. Simple as that." 

Connor was starting to lose hope. His pre-construction hadn't predicted this happening, so what was he supposed to do now? The outcomes he expected were Gavin accepting, laughing at him, or simply ditching him here. 

"Can't you help me without making me provide you with sexual favours?"

"No can do, plastic. It's either that or nothing," he said.

What bothered Connor was how smug Gavin seemed to be about it. If he had his way, he could've easily overpowered him, being taller and all. So how could Gavin have such power over him when all he was doing was asking for sex?

"I'm here on an investigation. I don't have time to be doing that, I need to be working." 

Gavin shrugged. "I worked on a lot of the cases on sexual assault in this city. I know how to file a complaint and get people into trouble. You can either do what I tell you to or just fuck off."

"Okay, I'll do it," Connor said. He gave up. Gavin was pretty stubborn and there didn't seem to be any other way he could get him to help. Besides, maybe their relationship could be improved with this. Hopefully.

"Good." 

* * *

Two minutes later, Connor got onto his knees in front of Gavin, who leant against the door of the stall. This was degrading. The washroom was the sketchiest place to be doing this, and it wasn't exactly clean either. Connor tried not to analyze everything around them and told himself to get this over with as soon as possible before anyone barged in. 

He looked down at the tiled floor as Gavin unzipped his jeans. Hank and the other officers were probably wondering where he was. Maybe they thought he was being unreliable and bailed out on the investigation. An unreliable android.

He just hoped this wouldn't be on his record. 

"I bet you're gonna like this, probably dreamed of doing this since the day we met, huh?"

Connor's thoughts were interrupted by Gavin's voice. He looked up, only to realize how close Gavin's cock was to his face. All hard, hot, and ready to be put into his mouth. Already leaking precum. It was a bit smaller than Hank's but it was still intimidating nonetheless. 

"Stop being so slow and just put it in your fucking mouth."

Not wanting to anger Gavin any further, Connor took ahold of the length and tried ignoring the feel of it in his hand. It reminded him all about what he did earlier with Hank. What kind of person was he? Providing sexual favours to his colleagues at work. It was one of the most unprofessional things he could ever do. Connor told himself that this was for the sake of making everyone happy and for maintaining relationships. Rules had to be broken every now and then.

He leant forward and pressed his lips to the tip of it, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Just put it in his mouth? Connor knew it required more than that. He actually had to _suck_ Gavin's dick. Actively participate. Make him feel good.

Slowly, Connor took the head of the cock into his mouth and heard Gavin moan. It made Connor uncomfortable and with so many receptors on his tongue, he could taste the precum. The wet and unpleasant feel of it. He tried blocking out these signals but it was useless, and his LED turned yellow at the vain attempt. He was going to have to remember every single moment of this experience, whether he liked it or not.

"Damn, that's fucking good," Gavin moaned. The sound of that made Connor's stress level rise. Allowing Gavin feel pleasure was supposed to be a good thing. It would improve their relationship - so why did he hate doing this so much? 

As he took more of the cock into his mouth, he felt discomfort at having to open his mouth so wide. The feeling of the hard length deep within his mouth was even worse. At least he didn't have a gag reflex - so when the tip hit the back of his throat, it didn't make him retch. But the sensation was unpleasant enough to make him pull his mouth off of Gavin's cock, a trail of saliva following as he did so. His LED blinked red and gave away his discomfort.

"I can't do this - it's too much. Please," Connor begged, turning his head away and looking up at Gavin with wide eyes. 

Prior to deviating, Connor had no idea what shame felt like. Everything he did and said was done because he had a goal, a mission, and he didn't care how he looked doing it. But now he could feel the emotions that humans in a similar situation must experience. He knew that appearances were more important than he once thought. How did he look to Gavin now? 

Connor used to be so proud of himself. Proud to be CyberLife's shiny new android, proud that he deviated to do the right thing, proud to be working for the DPD and alongside people he thought he could trust. 

So much for that.

Gavin wasn't merciful and grabbed a fistful of Connor's hair, pulling his head close until he was face to face to his cock that was all shiny with his artificial spit. In the mean time, Gavin's other hand pulled out the gun he usually kept holstered, and held it against the android's temple. 

"Listen, you little bitch," Gavin hissed, "you want help or not?"

Connor nodded, his system kicking into panic mode. 

"Then suck my cock. If you try to bite then I'll blow your brains out."

He could tell that Gavin wasn't fucking around - he was willing to _kill_ Connor if he wasn't going to give him head. His LED was now a solid red as he took ahold of Gavin's cock and quickly popped it back into his mouth again. Given the death threat, Connor started to suck Gavin off as best as he could. The fear of death outweighed the sensation of the dick in his mouth. 

Tears formed in his eyes - perhaps an inevitable effect of having something like this in his mouth, or they were caused by the newfound shame he was experiencing.

The tears slid down his cheeks as he tried to please Gavin the best that he could. He just hoped it was making him happy, and that this was worth the pain if it improved their relationship in the long run. A blue blush crept across his cheeks as he got more into the act, just to help Gavin feel better. Just to make it better for him - maybe it would get him off faster. 

"God - you're such a fucking slut," Gavin muttered. Connor could only let out a muffled sound in response. For the next few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of him sucking - wet, obscene and noisy sounds that he hated hearing - and Gavin's occasional moans. At one point in time, Gavin reholstered his gun, giving Connor the opportunity to fight back if he wanted to. But he was too far gone to stop now. Besides, this would be worth it. It would help them get along. 

Gavin's hold on Connor's hair tightened and he understood that the man was close. An analysis revealed an increased heart-rate, shallow breathing and a rise in body temperature consistent with that of an orgasm. He knew what was coming and alarms were being set off in his system. Gavin was going to cum into his mouth and make Connor taste that sticky, bitter stuff again. 

But surprisingly, as he heard the man's breathing quicken and his climax get closer, he pulled out of Connor's mouth at the last second with a groan. For a moment, he thought Gavin was doing this to be nice. Perhaps he knew Connor didn't like the taste of cum and that maybe, he actually cared about what he felt. 

That thought changed when he felt the first few spurts of cum land on his face. He quickly shut his eyes to avoid getting blinded, and felt the hot fluid land all over his face. Clearly, this wasn't something done to be nice. This was something done to degrade him. 

"Holy shit. You look like one of the whores who work here," Gavin said with a laugh. Connor heard the sound of Gavin zipping his jeans back up and the click of what sounded like a camera phone. He opened his eyes, only to be met with Gavin taking a photo of him with his phone. Before he could say anything, the man pocketed his phone with a smirk.

"Don't worry. This won't be sent to anyone. Just something to keep around with me if I ever need to know what the department's new detective looks like."

Connor didn't know what to say or do. His system was blindsided by all that had just happened. 

"So, you need help? Well, I changed my mind. But maybe, just _maybe_ , if you can get some dirt on Hank, I'll change my mind," Gavin said, laughing again as he unlocked the stall and left without a look back. Connor felt the cold of the tile beneath his knees and quickly stood, steadying himself with a hand against the divider of the stall. So Gavin wasn't going to help unless Connor blackmailed his work partner? What kind of a statement was that? And not to mention, Gavin now had a photo of him in the most compromising position imaginable.

Connor could hardly think, his system too distracted by the sensation of the wet and sticky fluid all over his face. He stumbled out of the stall and over to one the sinks, turning it on - but not before catching sight of himself in the mirror. The cum all over his face. His LED blinking red. Dirty, disgusting - like a whore, just like Gavin said. 

At least there was still hope that Gavin could help. Connor didn't want to think of the alternative, that he'd been used and degraded for nothing. There had to be something good coming out of this situation.

He squeezed his eyes shut and washed the cum off his face as fast as he could. He didn't need someone walking in and seeing him like this. The feel of the cum being washed off of his skin brought relief. He rinsed his mouth out to try and forget the taste of Gavin. Only after he knew it was all off, did he look in the mirror again. 

Teary eyes, blushing cheeks, messy hair. Unprofessional. Someone who snuck off duty to do something he wasn't supposed to. Was this really the level he sunk down to? Connor retrieved a paper towel and wiped his face off before making himself look as presentable as possible. At least he was calm enough to have brought his LED back to its typical blue state.

He didn't look great but it would have to do. If Hank asked, he could just bullshit and say he got emotional. Even if that was a terrible lie. 

* * *

Connor took deep breaths to try and lower his stress levels, as he walked back to the room where the investigation was taking place. Everyone was carrying on as usual. Even Hank was still here and hadn't gone looking for Connor - or maybe he had but couldn't find him. He was standing at a table by the bed, where a holographic menu displayed all the fantasies a Traci could offer. Right by the menu lay two baggies of red ice, apparently forgotten by the android in a haste to steal the customers' money. 

"I'm gonna take these - bring them back to the station myself," Hank said to the officers, who were too busy examining a piece of evidence to pay him any mind. He chuckled to himself and slipped the baggies into his pocket, before noticing Connor. 

"Where the fuck were you?" he asked, growing irritated, "you were supposed to be here doing your job." 

Connor knew there was no excuse. "I'm sorry, Hank." 

Hewasn't moved. "They already got all the evidence bagged up and ready to go. Let's get the fuck outta here."

"Wait," Connor said. He ran through a quick re-construction, the one he'd been doing when Hank interrupted him earlier. They needed this for the report.

He saw how the android attacked the client. They'd been on the bed, in the midst of undressing each other, when the android retrieved a switchblade from the pocket of his jeans and started stabbing her with no mercy. Instead of feeling shock or surprise, he felt relief. He was just relieved that he didn't have to witness the two having sex in this reconstruction. Even if it was just outlines of who they were, he wanted nothing to do with sex. 

Now, they needed to probe the memory of some Tracis to obtain the android's identity, but Connor just wanted to get out of here. So much for a thorough investigation.

"What is it?" Hank said, giving Connor a dirty look. 

"Nothing. I just needed to do a re-construction of the scene, to describe in the report."

"Well hurry up. I don't got all day. I'm supposed to be on my lunch break." 

Connor saved the re-construction in his system and gave Hank a nod, purposely avoiding eye contact. "Okay, let's go then." 

He kept his eyes to the floor and avoided looking at the androids Gavin compared him to on their way out.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Hank made Connor drive him to the Chicken Feed for lunch. He stood by the table, staring at the sidewalk while Hank finished up eating his burger. He wiped his hands off with a napkin before looking at Connor.

"What's the matter with you? You're usually bugging the shit out of me by now."

He snapped out of his daze and scrambled to reply. "Oh, uh - nothing, I'm just updating my databases, that's all."

"You don't need an update. You can bend over just fine so what's the big deal?"

Connor knew Hank was referring to something sexual and he didn't know what to say. Hank didn't seem to be waiting for a reply. 

"Hold on. Just gonna toss this," he said, picking up the remnants of his meal. Connor just nodded and watched as Hank tossed the garbage into a trash can by the food truck, then struck up a conversation with the guy working behind the counter. A man who had a record of resisting arrest and violating sanitation laws. Connor was going to zone out but froze when he saw Hank pull out a baggie of red ice from his pocket and slide it over. The man gave Hank a smile while pocketing the baggie surreptitiously.

Hank then walked back over to Connor as if he hadn't just handed over some drugs to someone with a criminal record. The Lieutenant of the Detroit Police Department, handing out red ice like candy. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Why did you do that?" Connor finally spoke, staring at Hank. He had no shame and didn't even bat a lash at Connor's statement.

"Do what?"

"Hank, I saw you give red ice to that man. He's a known criminal--"

"Yeah, yeah, say whatever you want. But I've got enough shit to handle and the guy's my buddy. He lets me eat here for free. Can't say I don't owe him something, at least."

Connor couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hank took out the remaining baggie from his pocket, holding it up for him to see.

"Still got something left though. Gonna use this tonight when you come home with me. It'll help keep me up all night long when I'm fucking you. Haven't had a fun Friday night in ages."

Connor's eyes widened. Not this again. He hadn't even agreed to going to Hank's home in the first place. He never wanted to go there again.

But it all made sense - Hank having a runny nose these days, acting strangely. He was using red ice. 

_If you can get some dirt on Hank, I'll think about it._

This was the perfect opportunity to get some "dirt" for Gavin. For him to change his mind and help Connor.

The Lieutenant stealing drugs from the scenes of crimes. If he could go along with Hank to his house, and knock him out before he snorted the red ice, there would be undeniable proof. Connor could get Gavin to come to Hank's house and see. He could be witness to the fact that Hank was in possession of red ice stolen from investigations. 

Surely then, would Gavin decide to help him.

It was flawed logic but Connor had no choice anymore. At this point, he would do anything to keep his life together.

So he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say thank you to those who have been reading this fic. I started it out of boredom but at the time, my life was consumed by work. Now I can add more passion to this story because I am stuck at home with nothing to do.
> 
> Thank you for the supportive comments. They mean a lot much to me. 
> 
> I will update again soon.


End file.
